


Tell Me When You Hear My Heart Stop

by maywemeetagainlove



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maywemeetagainlove/pseuds/maywemeetagainlove
Summary: New Moon AU. Jacob had always been her sun, Mr. Fix-It, slowly putting Bella back together piece by piece. What if he built her back up only to be the one to knock her back down again? Would she be able to survive being broken a second time?
Relationships: Jacob Black/Bella Swan, Jacob Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Stephenie Meyer, the creator of Twilight.

I lay on the floor, not really breathing, not feeling. I was alone. 

Alone. Just as I always knew I would be once Edward had left me. That had nearly killed me. But this...this was so much worse.

I thought my soul had died when Edward told me he didn't want me. I was wrong. 

_Now_ it was dead. 

It seemed almost incomprehensible to me that my heart should still beat, that I should still be able to see the lights glide gracefully across my dark ceiling each time a car passed. I shouldn't be able to think about how much I would be better off dead, able to hear Charlie's urgent hushed tones reverberating up at me through the floor I had not moved from since I had run back here, to my home, my sanctuary. The memories laughed at me, shrieking like banshees in the haunting darkness, taunting me with what will never be. 

The floor was a safe haven. We had never been here on the floor. Granted, we had walked on it plenty of times, but we did not lay here. _We_ did not-- _wince_ \--kiss...here. 

I squeezed my eyes closed as the pain stabbed into my chest, forcing the hole that had been long healed over to open, as it twisted clockwise to try to kill me. I curled into a ball, my fingernails digging into the hard wood, praying for it to anchor me, to let me hold on, to not be lost to the pain once more.

During my pleadings with my wooden life raft, my phone began to vibrate loudly against it. I let my eyes open slowly and watched the offending device, a few feet away, tap dancing, begging for my attention. This had to be the twenty-sixth time it had done that. And each time, I tried to pretend that it didn't exist. That this hadn't really happened. That it was all some horrific dream. 

Once again, the phone realized I would not give in and it stopped its little display. And sure enough, the house phone rang, calling to me as its little cousin had done moments earlier.

Charlie's gruff voice echoed harshly. "No. No, I am not putting her on the phone! You listen to me, boy--"

I covered my ears and shut my eyes, curling into myself tighter. I didn't want to hear this. I didn't want to hear his name. I didn't want to let this in, to let what was happening actually manifest itself into reality.

This was a dream, after all. A sick, twisted, horrifying dream. Just like the nightmares I used to have. Just like the ones I used to wake up screaming from. Just like I would any minute now.

But the harder I shut my eyes, the more I begged myself to wake, it didn't happen. No. This was reality. I was alone. So very alone. Everyone had left me. The only person still standing was Charlie. And I was hurting him, frightening him, more than loving him in return. He wasn't enough. Just like me. I wasn't enough. And I never would be. Never.

I could hear Charlie's voice raise a few octaves in anger and I capitulated, sticking both middle fingers into my ears like a child.

If I was alive, had some semblance of a soul left, I might even hum something so I could drown out the muffled din rising from the kitchen. But I was not. I was dead. Dead. Gone.

And then I heard a snippet of it sneak past my ambidextrous ear plugs. "--No, you will not come here! No! You do and I will arrest you for trespassing on the spot! You hear me?--I don't care what you have to say to her! I--Hello?--Hello!"

I winced and jerked a little as I heard Charlie slam the phone down and utter a curse.

I felt what little air I had left escape me. No. He was coming here. No. He was strong. Too strong. He'd make it past Charlie. 

No, that's not true. He wouldn't even bother with Charlie. He'd sneak in my window. My window that I had closed and locked before clinging to my dark maple angel. He'd break the glass.

No. No. No. I have to get out of here. I can't see him. He's already on his way. I don't have much time.

I numbly scramble to my feet, run to my door and fling it open with both hands in a death grip and make a mad dash for the stairs. Somehow I manage to run down them without tripping or falling once. A miracle I don't have time to marvel at. A miracle I'd rather not have had. The wrong miracle I was praying for.

"Bella! Bella, where are you going? Bella, come back here!"

I fling the front door open in much the same fashion as I did upstairs, but this time faster, grabbing the first set of keys I feel as I whip past. Charlie's right behind me, reaching for my arm but I'm too quick for him. I run at a breakneck speed, glancing at the keys in my hand, to the matching car. 

I jump into the police cruiser and turn over the ignition quickly, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway speedily, never once looking towards Charlie who is screaming my name and chasing after me.

I shift the car into drive and patch out onto the road, speeding down the street haphazardly in my rush to get out of there.

I squeal the tires a few more times until I'm on the main road, not caring, not hearing the honks of the other drivers I pass, the angry yells as I cut them off. No. I just need to get out of here. Get away from Forks, away from _him_.

I don't buckle my seat belt, I don't turn off the dispatch radio until I hear the pathetic pleas of my father's deputy, asking me to pull over and tell him where I am, that my father is worried sick. I don't even really see where I'm driving towards until it hits me. 

Edward had once told me that cars stymied their scents if a tracker was ever following them. Not completely but it was enough to throw them off course for a while. I'm not one of them and my scent is very potent to my pursuer. But it might just work.

I turn onto the highway at the last second and begin the long trek up to Port Angeles. If anyone were to follow my trail they might lose it after a couple of miles. Not to mention the pouring rain would be a major hindrance to the hunt for me. But then again, this isn't some natural predator in the wild I'm dealing with. Darn supernatural beings and their supernatural abilities. I should have just moved to Jacksonville with Renee when I had the chance. Then maybe I wouldn't feel this dead and empty inside, this hollow.

A few miles down the highway, I turn off onto the exit, making a U-turn to go back to Forks, thanking whoever is listening for no other police cars passing me. 

I don't even know where I'm going.

I don't even know why I just did what I did. It's not like _he_ would follow me, that he would be that concerned about me. He might have wanted to talk to me, apologize to me, so he could ease his own conscience, so he could sleep easier at night, but he wouldn't follow me all the way through Forks and up to Port Angeles. He just wouldn't. 

I wasn't enough. And I never would be.

I take a back road that Edward had shown me in the past and then before I know it, I'm at _the_ driveway. I turn in and make my way up the long winding drive until I reach my destination.

The glass house looks sinisterly empty and dark, bathed in the moonlight.

I turn the car off and get out, the pain still in my chest but not for the same reason as before, and make my way to the stairs.

The property is eerily quiet, except for the downpour of rain soaking me through and through. I'm shivering but I don't feel cold. Just empty.

I open the front door and let it swing open. I hear a loud crack of thunder in the distance, making me jump just a little, and then I walk inside. I drag my muddy, sodden feet across Esme's beautiful white carpet and glance all around me. 

I knew _they_ wouldn't be here. They haven't been since they left. But I needed a place for me to feel safe. To feel...at home. A place where he wouldn't dare to try and find me. 

I scan around the dark house, remembering... I feel so dead inside. I almost wish Victoria and Laurent hadn't been done away with so quickly.

Maybe another of their kind has taken refuge in the Cullens' old stomping grounds, I find myself hoping. Maybe, just maybe.

But no sounds and no strong urges for self-preservation make their presence known.

I hear another loud crack of thunder, this time closer. This time it doesn't make me jump. Not this time.

Instead, I make my way to the stairs, about to travel up to the room where I always felt loved and where I had always felt safe. I would either find an empty room or a squatter of the supernatural kind. Either one worked for me.

But before I could take a step, I heard a piercing howl in the distance.

I gasp and turn back to the open door worriedly. They-- _he_ couldn't have found me already. No. Was there no safe place for me to hide, for me to just _be_?

I struggle for breath as my arm encircles my midsection. Maybe they haven't. Maybe they're just giving up. Maybe they're telling him to let me go and good riddance. After all, it's not like I was worth mounting a full-scale search effort for. Not now.

But, as if fate is determined to make sure I end, whether by its hand or my own, the howls are closer now. I begin to shake more violently and my arm grasps my body tighter. The pain is excruciating.

No. I turn to force myself up the stairs, to go into Edward's room, to meet my safe haven willingly, whatever form it may come in.

The door slams shut behind me with such force, I gasp, stumble but manage to grab the railing in time, and turn around.

Nothing. No one. Maybe it was the wind.

I sneak a glance outside the windows but I don't see any of the vegetation swaying. Everything is absolutely still.

I take a deep breath, gasping in fright and look around the room. Nothing. No one.

I'm about to turn around and race up the stairs to my chosen place of refuge when I feel an ice cold hand on my shoulder. I spin quickly, shrieking in horror when I see the face of who that hand belongs to standing right in front of me, staring. It wasn't quite the end I was expecting. 

How ironic. How poetic. Let it end where it all began.

Looks like I'm getting my other wish, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Stephenie Meyer, the creator of Twilight.

The cool butterscotch burns into my eyes as he stares at me.

"J-J-Jasper?"

He gives me a wane smile which turns into a frown when he sees how badly I'm shaking. "Bella, you're all wet. Here." In the blink of an eye, he was gone upstairs and back with a blanket. He carefully wraps it around me.

My heart is beating so fast I'm sure he can hear it. I don't know what to think, how to react. Here is the vampire who had tried to attack me so long ago because he was thirsty and one drop of my blood had been irresistible to him. And now, he is being as polite and cordial as could be. I don't understand it. Just more cruel tricks that fate was playing on me at the moment. The universe must really hate me.

My hands stay at my sides, frozen, unable to move, so the blanket slips off of me and falls to the ground. Jasper's frown intensifies. "Bella, aren't you cold? You look like you ran here in this storm."

I don't know what to say. I just slowly shake my head.

"Why would you come here? Is something wrong?"

The howls pierce the silence accompanied by the loudest crack of thunder yet, making me gasp and turn my head back to the door worriedly.

Any rational person would have run, no matter how fruitless it might be from all these supernatural beings, but they would have tried anyway. Anyone with a sense of some self-preservation would have. But not me. 

No. I couldn't do this. I couldn't face _him_. I couldn't look into his face, knowing he's gone from me. I can't. Please, dear God, I can't.

"Is someone following you, Bella? Are you in danger?"

I swivel my head back to my strange host who is oddly my saving grace in this moment. The wolves would be here any minute. I had to make it fast.

"Jasper. Change me."

His eyes widen. "Bella, what are you talking about? I can't do that."

He tries to study me. I don't give him the time to. "Please. I need you to do this for me. Please."

Jasper shakes his head vigorously. "No. Bella, what has you so spooked and making you say these things? It can't be done."

For once, he looks frightened of me. I push forward, anyway. "Please. Jasper, I need this."

He shakes his head.

I feel the anger rise up in me. Not my smartest move, I'll admit, but I'm desperate. "You owe me. Edward left me because of you. Now, change me." I feel bad using that because the truth was, Edward didn't leave because of him. Edward just didn't want me anymore. I wasn't enough for him. Just like I'm not enough for _him_. Not enough for anyone.

His eyes look so pained I almost feel guilty but I can't stop now. It's almost as if I have supernatural hearing myself and I can hear the paws thudding against the earth. They're getting closer...

"Jasper. Please."

"No, Bella. You don't know what you're asking. Please. Don't."

I follow him up to the top stair. I look at him pleadingly. "Jasper. Change me."

His sympathetic golden gaze sweeps over me and he appears to want to say to something when his eyes snap to the door and a low growl emits from his marble throat.

"Over my dead body!"

I cringe when I hear the bang and then the voice. The voice that sends the pain running rampant throughout my body, begging me to just die already and put an end to it all. The voice that is all too familiar to me now.

Jasper snarls and pushes me behind him protectively. I don't look down. I can't. I can't look at _his_ eyes. I can't. 

I don't even think about it. I go straight into Edward's room and shut the door, sliding against it until I hit the floor. I hug my knees and bury my head in my arms. Regardless of the thunder, I can hear the yelling.

"Don't even think about touching her, leech!"

"Who are you to break into our home and make threats?"

"The Pack is right behind me. Don't try anything or you'll be ripped to pieces and burned to ashes before your coven knows what happened to you."

"Who says my family's not here?"

That bit of information would have normally perked me up but right now, I can't be bothered. Not unless one of them was willing to change me like I asked.

"I don't care who is here. You're not touching her!"

"I had no intention to, mutt."

"Let me pass."

"No. She doesn't want you near her, that's quite obvious. She ran to us. And we will protect her, she's still a part of this family."

"She is **not** a part of this family and she never will be. Get the hell out of my way, bloodsucker. Bella!"

I close my eyes and bury my head more, hugging my knees tighter to my body. I do not want this. Why is this happening? Why?

"Bella! Come out here right now! I need to talk to you!"

I shake my head. I don't care how angry he gets. I don't care that I do owe him at least this small form of goodbye. I don't care about anything.

"Bella!"

"See? Now get out of here, dog."

"Fine, have it your way then."

I hear Jasper snarl again and then the front door slams shut.

I slowly lift my head to take in my surroundings. Edward's room, just as he left it. His racks of CDs and books are the same. His stereo is still here. Everything's the same except one thing. There's a bed in the middle of the room. A big yellow bed that looked like it could easily fit three people.

I rise to my feet and make my way towards it cautiously. Vampires don't sleep. Edward never had a bed before and had no need for one. Why was this here then?

I gingerly stroke the comforter with my finger. Soft and...cool.

I sit down on the edge and lean down towards the pillow. I smell Edward's scent. Obviously, not his vampire scent, like the wolves pick up, but his scent. To me, a mere human. A human that wasn't enough for him.

I grab the pillow and hold it to my chest as I turn on my side and curl into a ball. If he hadn't left me, none of this would have happened. I would have never had the chance to feel this broken, this _dead_ inside. Not like this, anyway.

I know Edward doesn't want me. He never came back for me. I know Jasper's here now but that's nothing more than a coincidence. I know better. But I wish he would come back, anyway. Especially now, when I need him the most.

I close my eyes and inhale his scent, remembering the meadow and how his skin glittered in the sunlight. How he told me he loved me, how he had waited for me for so long. How I was the one for him.

But in the end, I still wasn't enough. Just like I wasn't enough for the second person who told me I was his world after Edward walked away, dooming me to a life of even more pain and misery than I would have had if he had just let me join his family when I wanted.

And that makes me begin to cry. I'm nothing now. No one's. No one. Nothing.

Nothing can save me now. The pain in my chest roars its agreement with my thoughts.

A loud crash behind me jolts me upright and has me screaming.

I hear a snarl near the bedroom door but it's drowned out by deafening growls.

The large wolf in front of me stares at me with sad eyes. I stare back at him, unable to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks.

I can't take it anymore. The pity only gets worse. I grab the pillow and turn my back, burying my face into it once more and curling into an even tighter ball. I close my eyes, praying and hoping he'll go away, since I have no ability to make him leave. I don't matter. I wasn't enough. Is the guilt burdening his soul this much? It shouldn't. After all, what should he have to feel guilty about? His soul should be twittering here and there in happiness, dancing to a neverending chorus of _Hallelujah_ or something. Why does he feel the need to keep torturing me? Is it because I'm still breathing? Because he hasn't finished the job? Soul--check. Heart--check. Will to live--check. Body--damn.

Maybe I'll get lucky. Maybe he'll realize I'm in Edward's room, on a bed, in a house of the family I still yearn to belong to and write me off as the lost cause he should have ages ago. Maybe...

I feel a heavy weight sink into the mattress next to me.

No such luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First written: 5/16/10  
> Re-edited: 12/8/19

**Author's Note:**

> First written: 5/16/10  
> Re-Edited: 12/8/19


End file.
